‘Exploitation’
is the new film by Dutch independent
filmmaker Edwin Brienen. Enfant Terrible produced the soundtrack for
this
gothic-noir satiric fresco. 90 minutes of music to be enjoyed both as
true
soundtrack as well as a sequel to previous Enfant Terrible
compilations… but
more dramatic and ritualistic in the way the record is building
up… it will
please fans of minimal electronics and (post) industrial music but also
moves into different styles such as idm, tekno, angst pop and
chanson... while always keeping a dark and cold mood and/or dream state feeling throughout...

A little more about Edwin Brienen… he enjoys poking at
sensitive subjects of our post 9/11 era and post-postmodern period: religion,
sex, and politics; from fundamentalist islam to the prudish christianism,
through exuberant homosexuality, and the delusion of formated heterosexuality.
This provocateur brings together in his artwork many contradictory features.
The innocence that can be perceived in some of his movies is incongruous with
his characters' excessive violence and inconsiderate nihilism. But this is just
an apparent contradiction. What unites his movies is Brienen's frankness with
which he displays a corrupt system. The honesty and instantness of his films
risk to be mistaken for a lack of subtlety, but are in fact the striving for
total freedom of expression.

A little more about the film… “Exploitation” uses the
so-called ‘mise en abyme’ principle and shows a fictitious film in the film,
called “Apocalypse, Part 3”: a breathtaking ‘Abendland’ of dreamy pictures and
nightmarish visions. It’s all there: baphomets, paganism, bizarre costumes.
Especially some old-time obsessions of the director are highly celebrated here:
the esthetics of Death in June, the works of painter Arnold Böcklin, or
Aleister Crowley’s Thelema spirituality.

The film had its premiere at the Lausanne Underground
Film and Music Festival in October 2012.

"...this 2LP
soundtrack is all kinds of awesome. Full of crunching industrial
minimalism and sleek, sparse, synth poems. Within
the unrelenting thud and pulse of the soundtrack’s four sides,
Soft Touch – the album’s (and presumably film’s)
final track – is the only space of vulnerability. As such, in
this context, it teeters almost into faux-naivety, while at the same
time reading as desperately, unapologetically heartfelt. Much like how
the Twin Peaks soundtracks beautifully navigate an almost-untenable
thread connecting the hyper-exaggerated sentiment of incidental sitcom
muzak and psyche-staining horror (mostly within the same few soft jazz
cadences). And they’re the greatest soundtracks of all time."
(20jazzfunkgreats)